Of the Blood of the Dragon

Chapter Eleven

"Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survives his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters." Otto announces before sitting on the Iron Throne. "The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

Vaemond steps out, "My Queen. My Lord Hand." Then he turns to the right side of the dais where House Valar stands. "Lady Valaena." Valaena nods her head while her children glare at him. "The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Valar has protected them, and House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat."

Vaegon sighs, earning a glare from Valaena.

"I am Lord Corlys's closet kin, his own blood. The true unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins." Vaemond continued.

"As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition." Rhaenyra says, glaring at Vaemond.

"You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard." Alicent interrupts.

Vaemond smiles before turning around to address Rhaenyra. "What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours." The look Vaemond gives Luke before turning back around, makes Jaehaerys rest his hand on the pommel of his sword.

"Calm yourself, Jae." Valaena whispers to him.

"My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor... the Lord of Driftmark and the Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you, Ser Vaemond. Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

Rhaenyra glares at Alicent before stepping forward. "If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty-two years ago, in this very-"

Rhaenyra was cut off by the doors opening, revealing Viserys.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

Viserra and Vaegon turn and smirk at Otto as he quickly rises from the Iron Throne.

As Viserys struggles to get to the dais he stops to look at Rhaenyra, then to the Iron Throne.

"I will sit the throne today." He tells Otto, making Valaena smile.

Viserys struggles to climb the steps of the Iron Throne. His crown falls and in an instant Valaena and Daemon are at his side.

"I'm fine." Viserys looks at them both.

"We do it together, as we always have." Valaena mutters softly.

Daemon picks up his crown. "Come on, brother."

They both help him sit the throne and Valaena watches as Daemon puts his crown gently back onto his head.